


Murderer On The Dance Floor

by brucebanners



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brucebanners/pseuds/brucebanners
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John Watson was forced to go to the 'Annual Army Get-Together' all he expected was to try and spy on Sebastian Moran, not wake up the next morning in the bed of a certain consulting criminal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murderer On The Dance Floor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, so this is my first story. Cheer for me, I am new. Anyway chances are it won't be book material but I hope you all enjoy it, reviews would be lovely and tea and jam for you if you do. If you hate the story go ahead and tell me but you may possibly be forced to jump of a certain well known hospital, I'm only joking (*whispers* I'm not). I would like to dedicate this story to my friend Bregje who is fantastic and my over seas sherlock buddie. I wrote this story for her and she seemed to like it so, why not share it with everyone? Anyway, I don't own sherlock, or John Watson sigh. I might ask Santa for Martin Freeman for Christmas, I think it will work. Anyway, enjoy.
> 
> -MartinsEvenSassierInTheBedroom
> 
> P.S- Is this cracky? It might be cracky, oh well.

John awoke to the typical sensations of a hangover, a particularly bad one at that. A head that feels like it's been split in half, a dry throat and a large erection pressed into your backside..wait, what? John cracked open his eyes and groaned at the sunlight streaming into the room, "it's too damn early for this" he mumbled and forced his annoyingly unresponsive brain to take in his surroundings. Large windows, various pieces of antique furniture and what seemed to be a life sized replica of Charles II. "Okay" he thought, trying to keep calm "this is definitely not my flat, or a flat of any sane person for that matter. Well done Watson you always pick the mental ones don't you?"

He sighed and closed his eyes again, only for them to snap open again when he realised that an erection is not a usual piece of anatomy on a woman's body. Trying not to hyperventilate he turned his body to see who exactly had made him change his sexuality, not that it was particularly solid anyway. He was met with small brown eyes and a very familiar smirk. "Heeelllloooooo Johnny Boy, nice to see your finally awake, last night must have really taken it out of you" he said with a wink, "oh don't worry, Shirley knows your here Big Brother made sure of that."

Well it's safe to say that John Hamish Watson, formerly a complete heterosexual really didn't know what to think. It was somewhere between shock, embarrassment and a tiny bit of arousal. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, the result was a very convincing impression of a fish. "Come on Johnny Boy, surely you can speak? You were positively screaming before" Jim whispered in a husky voice. Okay, well this definitely wasn't helping with the tiny bit of arousal, well less tiny more rather large. It seems Jim had noticed this too as his smirk suddenly became decidedly bigger and his hand reached down into more private areas of John's body. "Do you remember last night Johnny? More importantly do you remember how it happened?"

The answer was yes, he bloody did. It all started with that bloody invitation to an 'Annual Army Get Together' where all members of the armed forces home from service have the chance to meet and reminisce about their time at war. As you can probably tell this is not the sort of thing John Watson would go to, in fact he'd ignored the three invitations he'd had since he had been invalided home from Afghanistan, but of course Sherlock had to go and change that...

-Flashback-

The door to 221B creaked open as Mrs. Hudson stepped inside "Oh, John dear this just came through the door for you, sorry to disturb you but it could be important you know" she passed John the envelope and he internally groaned. Another army reunion invite, didn't they get the message the first three times? He put on a fake smile and thanked Mrs .Hudson as she hobbled back down stairs. He sighed and walked to the bin rubbing his right leg as he did so, as he was about to put the letter in the bin Sherlock (who came out of nowhere as always) spoke. "Do not put that letter in the bin John, this is important", John sighed and walked back (with some difficulty) to his armchair. "Okay Sherlock, enlighten me what exactly is so important about this bloody 'Army Reunion' letter?"

"It's about.. Moriarty, we-Mycroft has had a tip off that Moriarty's right hand man, Sebastian Moran is going to be at that army reunion. God knows why, but Mycroft said that his source was 'completely sure and telling the truth', he was connected to the most accurate lie detector this side of the hemisphere-his words not mine". Sherlock flopped down on to the sofa and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, "you are the only one who can keep track of him without raising too much suspicion". Sherlock sighed and mumbled something about an unfinished experiment. John knew Sherlock hated help from Mycroft and (hopefully) hated making John do this, it was risky after all. He understood though, this was too good an opportunity to not go. He opened the letter and searched for the time and date for the party from hell. '23rd April, 7-11. The Kings Cross Inn' wait, isn't that.. "Sherlock, Sherlock" Sherlock grunted to show he was listening. "This reunion is bloody today. The letters a bit late isn't it?" Sherlock stared at him incredulously and huffed (in other words the 'Are you and idiot? Oh wait, of course you are' look) "You seem to be forgetting that you've moved flats since last year, my brother had to have the letter redirected here". When Sherlock saw that John understood he rolled his eyes and walked off "Be ready for 6:45 John" he called over his shoulder. John sighed, this was going to be a long night..

At exactly 6:45 John walked out of 221B dressed in his old army uniform, as it was stated necessary on the letter. The uniform, though a little more snug still fit surprisingly well (chasing after criminals is a very good fitness regime I suppose). One of Mycroft's government cars were waiting for him and Sherlock -who had insisted on coming along for the ride, he got in and endured a car ride full of "be careful" and "remember, any danger and phone us we'll be just around the corner in a yellow VW Golf". They arrived at The Kings Cross Inn just before seven and John left with the parting words from Mycroft ringing in his head "You never know Doctor Watson, you might have fun", John snorted and walked into what may possibly be his doom. He was met with God-awful music and quite a few familiar faces, he walked cautiously into the Inn and tried to find Moran but to no avail. "Watson, Watson, is that you?" shouted a rowdy voice from the bar area, he looked over to see Roberts, Matthews and Davies from his regiment (thank god) and walked over to them.

"I have to say this is a surprise Watson, I heard you were off running around after some mad detective" said Davies. "Yeah, there's been loads of rumours about you two, I didn't know you played for that team mate" laughed Matthews with a wink, John scowled "I'm not gay, if anyone even cares what I say anymore" he turned to the bar tender "a coke please". The three men shared a look as John was doing this, secretly daring each other to ask. "So, why are you here Watson, not that we don't want you to be here it's great to see our Captain but you never come to these things and it's just..." Matthews tapered off towards the end of his sentence as he seen the look John was giving him. "I do believe that's my business" he snapped, "I'm sorry just a stressful day that's all, I'm here to let my hair down well, metaphorically of course" the fake smile was back again but it convinced the others so the 'interrogation' was over.

They all sat in comfortable silence for some time-with John looking out for Moran and the others being content to just sip at their drinks- when they heard a fight break out on the other side of the building. John watched on with amusement until he saw that one of the participants in the fight was none other than Sebastian Moran, well it's safe to say Sebastian Moran is a very large man and John Watson was definitely not scared, no not at all.. Well maybe just a bit. The fight was eventually broke up but Johns eyes were still locked on Moran which is a good thing otherwise he would have missed Moran's gaze flickering up on to the darkened balcony hanging above the dance floor. For a split second John saw a figure standing on the balcony and then they were gone, Johns kept a straight face and as inconspicuously as possible, sent a text to Sherlock 'Someone else in here, on Moran's side. Could be Moriarty.-JW' he received a text back in record time 'Get out of there.-SH'. John sighed and moved to walk out but then he saw the figure again, John Watson was not going to leave this easily. He was going to play the game.

He walked out on to the dance floor (where he had a better view of the balcony) and started dancing to whatever terrible music they were playing and after a while he started enjoying himself, it really was quite fun and as he danced with a particularly pretty woman he was reminded of his days at St. Barts with the parties and alcohol and that bloody nickname 'Three-Continents Watson' (he hadn't intended to sleep with the First Lady of France, an American figure skater and the niece of the African president but it was a nice surprise). He was having such a nice time he may or may not have forgotten about the task at hand, but that was fixed when a pair of very strong and very male pair of arms encircled his waist. He froze yet the arms stayed there, the woman he had been dancing with had quickly abandoned him-lovely-and the man who was holding him had just started swaying his hips in an extremely suggestive way.

"Keep calm, keep calm" he repeated to himself inside his head as he took a deep breath and turned to face the man who he was going to shout back to the stoneag-ah. If there was ever a time John Watson had ever felt truly trapped in his life, it was now being –for lack of a better word-hugged by the worlds only consulting criminal. "Well hello there Johnny Boy, I am surprised to see you here" John raised him eyebrows and gave him the 'I may not be a genius but I'm not bloody stupid' look "Okay well maybe I'm not but I'm just trying to make conversation Johnny Boy" Jim giggled and rolled his hips into Johns. This was too much for John he tried, and failed to get out of Moriarty's grip for at least five minutes before giving up. "Come on Johnny lighten up, I thought you said you were here to let your hair down" he whispered into John's ear with another roll of his hips for good measure, and well although John Watson can endure at least fifty types of torture methods, he can't say no to a good party. He sighed, then smirked "Okay then, but you're buying the drinks" the surprised look on Jim's face was enough to make John want to pat himself on the back for the next two years but Jim regained his composure quickly. "Of course Johnny" he squealed and rubbed his nose to John's in what was suspiciously close to an Eskimo Kiss and skipped off to the bar.

John could feel someone watching him and turned to see Roberts, Matthews and Davies gawping at him with wide eyes, he just shrugged and turned away, it's good to have a bit of mystery surrounding you..probably. He saw Jim walking back from the bar with two shot glasses, the soldier side of him told him not to drink it "it could be poisoned" half his brain was telling him, the other half was telling him "who cares?" he went with that side. He grabbed the drink off Jim and tipped it back seeing Jim do the same, it had been a while since he'd had alcohol and he'd forgot how nice it tasted, John looked wistfully at the bar (the shot of vodka-or whatever it was-had not been enough to quench his need for alcohol). Jim noticed this and giggled "In a bit Johnny Boy, don't want you getting too drunk" he grabbed John's hand and pulled him further into the middle of the dance floor and started smiling in a way which scared John, a lot. "Listen" Jim ordered and John listened, hoping he wasn't listening for a distant bomb or gun shot, but then he heard what music was playing and started giggling uncontrollably, soon to be joined by Jim. Jim grabbed his shoulders and started spinning him round and whispering the words of the song in his ear "It's murder on the dance floor, but you better not kill the groove Dj, gonna burn this goddamn house right down" his voice grew husky at the end of the chorus, he looked up at John and John realised he wanted him to say something "Er-Nice choice of song" he said and Jim laughed. "It's all for you Johnny Boy" Jim growled and looked at John through lust-filled eyes, they stood there looking at each other for what seemed like hours and then at the same time, came to their senses and smashed their lips together. It was all teeth and tongue and moans and hands everywhere until they had to come apart for air. "You are coming home with me" growled Jim "now". And so he did.

-End Flashback-

That is how John Hamish Watson, a now not so very heterosexual man came to be in the bed of (and being fondled by) the world's only consulting criminal. And he found, he rather quite liked it.


End file.
